


unless you show me how

by Bright_Elen, misskatieleigh



Series: save that light [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Feels, Baze secretly loves all the shit Chirrut pulls, Bodhi is awesome we will fite you, Cassian needs a hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Force-sensitive Cassian, K-2 is the mom friend, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Cassian Andor, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-17 15:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13079628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/pseuds/Bright_Elen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/pseuds/misskatieleigh
Summary: The closer Cassian got to the other cell, the queasier he got, the wrongness setting his nerves on edge. He felt like some feral beast then, itching to lash out at whatever was trying to scratch its way into his brain.Cassian swallowed against the saliva that filled his mouth when he felt the chaos rolling outward from the shaking man.“Are you the pilot?” He tried to be kind, tried to fill himself with peace and calm, but whatever storm the pilot was caught in wasn’t keen to let him go.  The man didn’t so much as flinch.Cassian tried again. “Galen Erso. Do you know that name?”That caught his attention, and those dark eyes finally focused on Cassian's face, the faintest hint of a smile playing around the edges of the pilot’s mouth.“I’m the pilot. I - I brought the message…”Cassian exhaled, his own mouth betraying him with a smile in return. He felt an impossible desire to see what that man would look like in some other life, one where he was happy instead of mangled and confused, but he pushed that errant thought away.He was used to wanting things he couldn’t have.





	1. Chapter 1

Operation Fracture was fucked from the start.

It began with rumors. A planet killer. A pilot defecting from the Empire, seeking Saw Gerrera of all people. Now this: Jyn Erso sitting in front of them, feigning nonchalance. The fact that Cassian could feel almost no emotion from her only made him more suspicious.

Cassian was done with the charade Mothma and Draven were playing out, as though they were acting out of concern for this girl when they sent the team to break her out of prison. Judging from the concussion Melshi was still nursing, Jyn Erso had no need for rescuers.

“When was the last time you were in contact with your father?”

There was the briefest crack in her shell at that. Slim hope, but he'd made do with less. Cassian had learned one thing over the years: everyone wanted something.

* * *

Draven followed them out to the U-wing. That should have been enough of a clue; the man wasn’t sentimental enough to see Cassian off, no matter how important the mission. He stopped Cassian halfway across the tarmac, a hand at his elbow drawing him to a halt.

His face was dour, guilt eating away at the edges of his emotions. “Forget the official mission. Find Erso and kill him. We can’t afford to leave that kind of weapon in the enemies hands.”

Cassian looked down, clenching his jaw. Then he nodded. He would do whatever needed to be done, and worry about the consequences to his own sanity later.

* * *

Kaytoo made no qualms about sharing whatever passed through his circuits. It had proven to be both help and hindrance over the years, but at least he was consistent. Jyn didn't seem phased by Kay’s height nor his charming personality, though the blank slate of her emotions rippled a bit when they started talking about the blaster she'd ‘found.’ Cassian furrowed his brow and searched for some ill intent, some clue as to whether he'd wind up with a blaster pressed to the base of his skull the second they made the jump to hyperspace.

Jyn narrowed her eyes in return, her emotions still as closed off as ever, but somehow pressing cold against his mind. She hissed at him, a loth-cat bound in chains. “Stop that!”

Cassian pulled back, fingers twitching at his sides. “Stop what?” He could feign indifference just as well as her.

But somehow, she saw through his walls like they were transparisteel, like one flick of her finger could shoot a crack to the heart of him. “Stop  _ feeling _ at me. You're hardly a Jedi and I don't appreciate the manipulation. I've said I'll help, and I'm trusting that you'll let me go at the end of all this. But trust goes both ways.”

With that, she set the safety on the blaster and tucked it firmly into the holster strapped to her thigh. Cassian let out a breath, nodding once before climbing into the pilot's seat next to Kay.

“You're letting her keep it?  Would you like to know the probability of her using it against you? It's high.”

“Leave it be, Kay.”

Never one to give up the last word, Kaytoo interjected, “It’s very high.”

Cassian tuned Kay out. He had enough on his mind without Kay filling his head with statistics. Statistics never told him who to trust and when to cut and run. The Force had its uses, even when it scared him.

* * *

Jedha was as bad as Cassian remembered from his last mission there. Swirls of terror and anger grated against Cassian like a sandstorm, searching for a crack. He wanted Kaytoo with him, a buffer against the storm, but practicality outweighed any comfort he would get from having Kay’s solid presence nearby.

Kaytoo gave him an unimpressed look, then a suspicious one to Jyn. “Right,” he drawled. “Of course you’ll be fine. In a war zone. With thousands of people.” He reflexively grabbed the duffel bag Jyn thrust into his hands. “Why would you ever need me in that scenario? You have an armed criminal who will surely not shoot you or run at the first opportunity. I’ll just wait here. What could possibly go wrong?”

Despite everything, Cassian couldn’t help but smile. When they were on their way down and he heard the bag being dropped to the ground, he snorted in amusement.

It was fine. Better this way, with Kay’s terrible acting. And anyway, Cassian needed someone to stay with the ship, in case there was trouble.

* * *

Of course there was trouble. The Guardians that Jyn had somehow dragged into their adventure, an unfortunate choice between killing a Partisan with a bomb and losing Jyn before he ever got anywhere near Saw Gerrera, the adrenaline of the crowd; all of it poured over him like an overdose of stim to his brain. Cassian gritted his teeth and chose. The Force didn’t deign to make a decision for him, aggravatingly enough.

The Partisan fell from the roof with a single shot from Cassian’s blaster and Jyn caught his eye, the knowledge of what was the likely outcome of that vividly clear. It was the first solid flood of emotion that he’d felt from Jyn. He wasn’t sure if it was better than the blankness from before, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it.

The storm of emotion started to fade from his senses and Cassian’s relief balanced his anger. He didn’t have to turn around to know Kaytoo had showed up against orders. When he did, it was to see Jyn shooting a KX, and for a horrible moment he thought she’d killed Kay. Then he registered the red shoulder bands, and another wave of relief hit him. That Jyn shared it was about the only thing keeping him from punching her out and dragging her to Saw unconscious.

Kay’s nonchalance in the face of explosives was an amusing contrast to his terrible acting, which at least stalled the Stormtroopers long enough for the ex monk and his gunner to take them all out.

“Is he a Jedi?” Cassian asked warily. He’d never met another person that he knew was a Force-user.

“There are no more Jedi,” the gunner answered, and even with his walls pulled back up Cassian could hear an old pain in the man’s voice. “Only dreamers like this fool.”

Their victory lasted long enough for Saw’s people to capture them. At least they were going in the right direction, and Kay was still back at the ship.

They were marched out of the city, and as the population center dropped farther and farther behind, Cassian lowered his walls to get a read on the people around him.

Jyn was a tamped-down mass of something, anger the only thing he could feel on her surface.

Their captors were in various states of anger, weariness, grief, suspicion.

The gunner was tired and angry. The ex monk was irritated and curious. They were both deeply in love with each other, which was interesting.

It stopped being interesting after they started bickering in the cell.

“He’s praying for the door to open,” the gunner, Baze, said dismissively.

“It bothers him because he knows it’s possible,” the monk, Chirrut, replied. “But of course,  _ you _ also know that.”

Cassian snapped his head around to look at Chirrut. “‘Possible’ isn’t the same thing as likely,” he said, removing a pick from his boot “I’ll rely on my tools, thanks.”

“All is as the Force wills it,” Chirrut said, far too serenely.

Cassian stiffened. “I refuse to believe that.”

“So do I,” Baze said, surprising Cassian.

Chirrut sighed. “We’ve had this conversation before,” he said to Cassian. “Why do you say that, Captain? When you can feel it, how can you deny the Force?”

Rage flashed hot in Cassian’s chest and face, and he had to clamp down hard to keep it from burning the others.

“If it wills the Empire, I deny it. How can you say everything is right?”

“I can’t see what’s in this cell, nevermind the other side of the galaxy. A balance exists, it just hasn’t been found yet.” The peaceful look on Chirrut’s face shouldn’t have been so irritating.

Baze scoffed and looked the other way, clearly done with the whole thread of the conversation. Cassian wondered when the Guardian had lost his faith, and how he was so clearly tied to one who hadn’t.

“Who’s the one in the other cell?” Baze asked, startling Cassian out of his thoughts, and already moving toward the thick bars that separated the two enclosures.

“An Imperial pilot.” Baze choked out the words, and Cassian felt a swell of smoldering rage twist upward through him, finally given a fixed point to aim at. “I’m going to kill him!”

A jolt shot through Cassian, the reminder of their mission pulling him away from his defeated slouch against the wall. “Don’t!” he called out, trying to stop Baze before he could damage what might be their only chance of salvaging the mission. “We need him.”

The closer Cassian got to the other cell, the queasier he got, something  _ wrong _ setting his nerves on edge. He felt like some feral beast then, itching to lash out at whatever was trying to scratch its way into his brain.

The pilot was both everything and nothing like he expected at once. He wore the Imperial uniform still, though it was half covered in dust and darkened with sweat and possibly blood in places. There was no aristocratic tilt to his head, nothing about him belonged to a core planet. He looked like he belonged to this dusty place. Well, right then he didn’t look like he belonged anywhere, or like he was anywhere except lost in his own head. Cassian let his guard down, swallowing against the saliva that filled his mouth when he felt the chaos rolling outward from the shaking man.

“Are you the pilot?” He tried to be kind, tried to fill himself with peace and calm, but whatever storm the pilot was caught in wasn’t keen to let him go.  The man didn’t so much as flinch.

Cassian tried again. “Galen Erso. Do you know that name?”

That caught his attention, and brought more questions to Cassian’s mind than he wanted to think about right then. Especially not when those dark eyes finally focused on his face, the faintest hint of a smile playing around the edges of the pilot’s mouth.

“I - I brought the message…I’m the pilot.”

Cassian exhaled, his own mouth betraying him with a smile in return. He had the sudden urge to see what that man would look like in some other life, one where he was happy instead of confused, but he pushed that errant thought away. He was used to wanting things he couldn’t have.

A huge force shook the catacombs, simultaneous with the sudden absence of thousands of lives like a stone falling through Cassian’s chest. For a moment all he could do was crouch on the floor and try to breathe around it.. Compared to the pain, everything else was distant: the dust falling from the ceiling, the rock under his hands, the Partisans abandoning their guard duty. The last gave him the strength to struggle to his feet, reach through the bars, and open the cell door.

“We need the pilot,” he said to Baze. The gunner nodded, looking far too pleased to have his weapon back in his hand. Cassian flipped on his comm. “Kaytoo, where are you?”

“Standing by, as requested,” Kaytoo said, “Though there’s a problem on the horizon.” He waited a beat. “There’s no horizon.”  Cassian felt surprise only at the timing. He went to look for Jyn.

When he found her, she was a torrent of love and grief, barely coherent, and strangely that seemed to replace the void that had opened up in his senses. He took her hand, leaving Gerrera to battle his own demons. Outside, he found the pilot staring at the eruption of earth bearing down on them like a geological tidal wave.

Cassian grabbed Bodhi’s elbow and dragged him forward. The pilot’s shock overwhelmed his pain and confusion, which actually made it easier to pull him onto the U-wing when Kay brought it down. Then they were all on board, Kaytoo flying them as fast as he could away from the destruction, the sudden realization that it wasn’t going to be fast enough pulling Cassian toward the cockpit.

_ Please,  _ Cassian thought, hand on the hyperthrottle.  _ If you really are on our side, act like it for once. _

When they didn’t die in the gravity well of a star, Cassian begrudgingly thanked the Force for their lives. Moments later, the strain of maintaining his walls became too great. The last thing he saw before passing out was Kay, backlit by the blue of hyperspace, moving toward him.


	2. Chapter 2

“He’s awake,” Kaytoo said. Cassian opened his eyes. He was still on the U-wing, Kay looking down at him, the inside of the ship tinted blue. They were still in hyperspace.

“How long was I out?” Cassian asked.

“Six minutes, twenty-eight seconds,” Kaytoo said. “I caught you before you hit your fragile skull.”

Cassian felt half a smile on his face. “Thanks, Kay.” He realized that he couldn’t sense anyone else, and for a second he was afraid they’d been hurt or killed somehow, and he sat up in a scramble. But they were all there; the husbands sitting with their heads bowed together, Jyn with a thousand-yard stare, Bodhi backed against the bulkhead with his arms around his knees. He looked exhausted and devastated but also more lucid than he’d been in the cell. He was watching Cassian, eyes darting away when Cassian met his gaze.

Of course it was Kay blocking the organics again. Cassian was grateful for that, truly - he wasn’t sure how much more secondhand grief and rage he could take - but for the first time it felt off. Like the numbness of an anesthetized limb.

“There’s water in that compartment,” Cassian said to Bodhi, pointing. “And first aid supplies in that one, if you need some.”

Bodhi shook himself and nodded, then started with a drink. He took small sips, pacing himself even as parched as he must have been - he was Jedhan, too, Cassian suddenly remembered.

Well, shit. Cassian had no real idea of what would happen - Would Rook’s grief be swallowed up in the storm of his battered mind? Would it add to his already tempestuous psyche? Would he collapse under the stress?

Would Cassian?

So far, the pilot was holding together. Cassian would try to do the same.

He gathered himself, drank from his own canteen at Kay’s pointed look, and went to the comm terminal. He ignored the whispers of the others’ grief and rage washing against his shields, picked up the headset, and commed Draven.

The new information didn’t change the General’s mind. Not about his final objective. And it wasn’t a bad call, strategically; Galen Erso was too dangerous to leave in the hands of the Empire, and the chances of getting him out alive were slim.

It didn’t change the fact that Cassian wasn’t sure he could do it. Not after fighting alongside Jyn. Not after seeing that the man’s name alone was able to pull Bodhi out of his trance. Not after all the death he’d felt on Jedha.

“Cassian?” Kaytoo’s hand was on his shoulder.

Belatedly, Cassian realized that he was sitting on the deck, headset creaking in his white-knuckled grip. Kaytoo’s hand was on his shoulder and the others were all looking at him.

“What is it?” Baze asked. “You look like you don’t like what you heard.”

Cassian shook his head. He shouldn’t have been showing his feelings. He shouldn’t have been having them in the first place. He needed to pull himself together and tell them something plausible, something to let him continue his mission…

The headset cracked.

“What did they say?” Jyn demanded.

Cassian pulled himself upright enough to replace the broken headset on its hook. He thought there might have been some heavy tape somewhere, in the ship, enough to keep the equipment operational. Was it in the compartment in the cockpit, or was it back under a jump seat? He couldn’t remember.

“Captain,” Jyn said, and she was right behind him. She grabbed his shoulder, and the physical contact bypassed Kay’s interference entirely. Jyn was fire, pain and anger and love, bloodthirst and hope. She burned through Cassian’s defenses, letting in a flood of grief and rage and terror from the Jedhans.

He choked. He couldn’t breathe, and he pushed Jyn away, and Kay was there trying to guide him away from the others, and at least two people were yelling. It was another little while before he could concentrate enough, but when he was able to focus, he saw Rook kneeling in front of him, not touching, but speaking softly and looking at him with concern.

A selfish part of Cassian liked that.

“You there? Oh thank goodness. Do you want water? Stims? No, sorry, just because that’s pilots’ solution to everything doesn’t mean it’s yours—”

“It is, actually, but please don’t encourage him,” Kaytoo said, and the ghost of a smile curved Cassian’s lips.

“I…” Cassian swallowed. For some reason, Bodhi’s tired, kind gaze made it easier. “I have secret orders. I’m not going to follow them.”

“What orders?” Jyn said, sharply. She was sitting with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together, hunched over in her attempt to contain herself.

Now that he’d decided, he could meet her eyes. “To kill your father.”

“They—” Jyn’s fury choked her words. She stood again, pacing in the tight space, and struck out at the bulkhead when she got close enough. She lashed out again and again, enough that Cassian was starting to worry she’d break something.

“Jyn, I’m not going to. We’ll extract him as per the official plan.”

“Why do you think I’m not attacking _you_?” she snarled.

“O-okay, so we’re going to extract him,” Bodhi interjected. “How?”

“I haven't figured that out yet. We need to get to Eadu.” Cassian tried to stand, faltered. Rook didn't touch him, but it was a close thing. His face swam in Cassian's vision, tired and bruised. Cassian couldn't feel either of those things though, and he was grateful that Kay's interference was starting to work again. Then, a clear note of determination sang through the muted stream of emotions buffeting Cassian, a long sustained release of held breath.

Bodhi's head had dropped down, chin pressed to his chest, but he looked up again and met Cassian's eyes.

“Okay. I can get us there.”

“I can -” Cassian pushed against the floor, tried to will himself to standing, but Bodhi was already moving toward the pilot's seat, and the slowly cresting wave of his own panic and fear and anger kept him in place.

“I can do this.”

Cassian didn't know if Bodhi was talking to him or to himself, but he believed him.


	3. Chapter 3

Staring out the viewport of the shuttle, Cassian was at once scared out of his mind and thoroughly impressed by Bodhi’s piloting skills. He could almost see some afterimage of them clipping one side of the canyon, an endless rush of events following that only lead toward darkness. Instead, some second instinct let Rook ride the gusts of wind and rain like his name come to life, a dark bird alighting behind the shelter of a ridge.

As soon as the shuttle was settled, systems powering down, Cassian climbed down from behind the pilots seats. Almost immediately, Jyn rounded on Cassian again. There was still rage pouring off of her, but she had learned some small lesson and she kept her hands to herself.

“What _are_ you?” she seethed, the dimmed lights of the cockpit reflecting off of smeared tear tracks on her cheeks. “And why should I trust you now, when you lied to me before?”

Cassian stepped back out of reflex, backing away from the wall of emotion Jyn was suddenly projecting. It landed his back against Bodhi’s, who had climbed down after finishing his check of the ship’s power reserves and whatever other mental checklist he had ingrained in his brain. Cassian wasn’t used to this many people being on the ship with him, Kay didn’t move around much, and he wasn’t generally silent about it either.

Bodhi was alive with adrenaline and hope, layered over terror and exhaustion and doubt, layered over conviction. Cassian latched onto that conviction with everything he had, and used it to keep Jyn's anger from taking over.

“What I _am_ is irrelevant. I’m the same as I was before we went to Jedha, and you were willing to put your trust in me then.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Jyn huffed. “Yes, well, that was when you said we were going to get my father. You never said anything about orders to kill him.”

“It makes sense though.” Bodhi’s voice was quiet, directed away from them. Cassian turned and saw that he was looking out the viewport at the rain washing over them. He hoped that the weather was working in their favor somehow, otherwise it was just adding to the sense of dread building inside the shuttle. Bodhi turned and met Cassian’s eyes, then shifted his gaze over to Jyn. Cassian felt a chill wash through him at the loss of that focus, or maybe he was just picking something up from one of the Guardians. He couldn’t tell anymore.

“It makes sense, for the Alliance to take Galen out of the playing field. They just know he helped build it, and he could do it again. Easily. It...it isn’t good, or even right maybe, but it makes sense, from a military perspective.”

Jyn’s head dipped down at Bodhi’s words, and Cassian felt her start to retreat inside whatever shell she had built around herself before.

“That doesn’t matter,” Cassian said, jaw clenched. “I’m not...I can’t.” He could feel his throat closing up, and Kay stood up from the co-pilot’s seat.

Baze’s voice rumbled out from the back of the shuttle. “There has been enough murder today.”

“The Force is guiding us to a brighter path.” Chirrut spoke with conviction, and it rankled Cassian, to think that he wasn’t in control of his own decisions. That none of what he did mattered inside some great overarching plan for the universe.

“I’d rather trust in what the six of us can do. The Force doesn’t change any of that.” Cassian took a breath, and steeled his shoulders. He just needed to get through this mission, then he could rest. The pilot was watching him, lips drawn thin.

“Bodhi. Can you get in touch with Galen? Could you get Kay and I inside the facility without raising any alarms?”

Bodhi considered for a moment, then nodded. Before he could speak, Jyn stepped forward with a loudly drawn in breath. “I’m going with you.”

“No. You’re too close to this. Besides, I need you for something else.” He was being harsh, but it was the truth. He could give her that, at the very least.

“I think we’re going to need a diversion.”

Chirrut’s face broke out into a wild grin and Baze rolled his eyes. He imagined that was a regular occurrence for those two, and found that the thought pleased him, in some small way.

Turning back toward Kay, Cassian said, “Get on the radio with the General. I don’t want anyone showing up and causing trouble. Tell him we have it under control - no backup needed.”

Kay picked up the mangled headset, hastily taped back together by someone while Cassian had been trying to settle his walls back in place. “Yes, Cassian,” he intoned. He almost sounded like he approved. Well, it was bound to happen eventually.

He caught Bodhi’s gaze, a little twist of hope forming in his chest at the steel inside those soft brown eyes. The Empire had no idea what they’d lost.

“Bodhi. Tell me how we get inside.”

* * *

Baze was pleased to learn that Jyn Erso knew how to make good use of materials on hand.

“She’s making a bomb out of a pressurized oil can, a remote fuse, and bonding tape,” Baze told Chirrut.

“She is a young woman with spirit and promise,” Chirrut smiled.

“I can hear you, you know.”

“Now she’s attaching some loose hardware for shrapnel,” Baze added, feeling oddly proud of the girl he’d known less than a day.

“We’re supposed to be a distraction, aren’t we? The messier, the better.”

Baze nodded. “Indeed, Little Sister.” He hefted his cannon, intakes newly cleaned of Jedha’s dust - of NiJedha’s dust. He was more than ready to put it to use on Imperials. Seeing them cut down with burning plasma wouldn’t bring his home back, but it would begin to tip the scales in the right direction.

His husband laid a hand on his arm. “Carefully, my love.”

Exhaling heavily through his nose, Baze grumbled. “I know.” He put his gun down and reached for some of the other materials Jyn had gathered and started to piece together explosives of his own. They didn’t have much; with the pair of thermal detonators and their homemade explosives, they had only five bombs altogether. Baze took two.

Jyn squirreled two away in her pockets and then hesitated with the last before holding it out to Chirrut. “Do you want…”

He gently pushed her hand back. “I’m better with my hands and my bow.” Then he grinned. “Besides, something tells me you’ll enjoy it more.”

Jyn snorted, half a smile on her face. “Maybe so.”

They collected their gear, Baze throwing the remaining poncho at Jyn, and then crept through the rain towards the facility. They were aiming to start something at the northern gate and had a short hike to get within range.

* * *

They’d taken positions right outside their target when the sounds of engines overhead caught their attention.

“Is that a T-3?” Chirrut asked softly.

Baze grunted in affirmation. Things were about to get interesting.

“We should target that,” Jyn whispered. “More guards maybe, but that can only help the others, right?”

Nodding slowly, Baze pulled up the comm link.

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to get into Eadu Station. Despite Bodhi’s face plastered over all of Jedha, the guards at the eastern shuttle bay doors either weren’t in the loop, or didn’t care enough to look past the rain hat pulled down low over his face. Cassian projected as much trustworthiness as he could muster as a precaution. For once Kay’s looming presence lent credence to their charade, and then they were inside.

“Was that too easy? It felt too easy,” Bodhi muttered, stripping out of his wet outer layers and dumping them into some unused closet. The echoing emptiness of the place made it feel like a graveyard as they made their way through the halls in search of a data terminal.

“Had to catch a break sometime, I suppose,” Cassian said. Bodhi didn't look convinced. Cassian didn't blame him.

Baze’s voice crackled over the comm and Cassian jerked it to his ear.

“Company landing on the platform. A T-3. Could be more guards, could be someone more important.”

He could feel it, a wash of anxiety laid like a blanket over everyone on the station. Whoever was here, they weren't expected. “Great,” he muttered. “Just what we needed.”

“Statistically speaking, the arrival of a member of the command structure increases our chance of being discovered by twenty-eight percent.”

Bodhi had located a data terminal and was scanning through the files looking for something. He looked up at Kay's declaration, eyes wide.

Cassian groaned. “Ignore him. What did you find?”

Bodhi's shoulders sank, just barely. If he hadn't been watching, Cassian might have missed it. “It's the Director. Krennic. He'll be here to see Galen.”

A brief flare of panic shot through Cassian and Kay placed one large palm against his shoulder. Cassian leaned into it, searching for the hum of emptiness he'd found before. “Would he kill Erso? If he's found out about the message?”

Bodhi shook his head, pausing to draw in a deep breath before he spoke. “I - I'm not sure. Maybe.”

Cassian pulled the comm up to his mouth. “How's that distraction coming?”

“Ready when you are, Captain.”

* * *

The platform shook with the force of the explosion. Cassian saw Bodhi shrink back into himself, his own memories of Jedha’s destruction standing out bright and painful at the front of his mind.

“Bodhi, I need you with me.”

There was a brief moment of confusion from Bodhi, then he shook his head, met Cassian's eyes, and gave one sharp nod. “One of us needs to go out there. I can - I don't think Krennic would recognize me anyway, but at least then Galen’d have a chance-”

“That is a terrible idea. I will go.” Kay pushed through the doorway and out onto the platform before either of them could speak.

Cassian peered around the corner then ducked back and gestured at Bodhi. “There's another shuttle out there. If you can get to it, could you get inside? Give us an escape route?”

Another burst of explosions tilted the floor beneath their feet, and Bodhi reached out and grabbed Cassian's arm. A flurry of emotions fluttered through Cassian's head, birds that couldn't settle on where to land. Anxiety, fear, longing. Resolve. “I can do that,” Bodhi said.

Feet moving swiftly across the platform, they made their way over to the shuttle. Cassian kept his blaster raised, even though most of the ‘troopers seemed to be concentrated at the other end of the platform. That luck didn’t last though, as one took notice of their movement and started over toward them. Cassian aimed at the armored chest, not sure he could take the ‘trooper out until he got closer. Before that could happen, a blast came from the ridge, the ‘trooper falling to a heap about thirty paces away. The comm buzzed. “You’re welcome,” said Chirrut. Cassian ignored him. He had better things to worry about.

Cassian ducked behind the cover of some shipping containers that must have been the cargo from the shuttle, abandoned when the T-3 arrived, and looked for Kay. He could hear Bodhi, vaguely muttering to himself, the clang of a compartment opening, the sharp tang of electricity followed by a muffled curse. The lights in the shuttle turned on, fading for a moment, then glowing steadily.

“Got it!”

It felt like they had been out on the platform for ages but Cassian knew that logically only moments had passed. Dead bodies lay across the platform, scientists, judging by their uniforms. He could see Kay’s black form towering over everyone else, a man in white shouting and pointing toward a severe-looking man wearing gray.

“Sitrep, Kay,” he said into the comm, scanning over to the ridge for their ‘distraction’.

“I have acquired Galen Erso. I am to escort him onto the Director’s shuttle.”

The comm crackled and Jyn’s voice piped through. “Targeting Director Asshat’s shuttle. Take cover.”

That was the only warning they got before something exploded under one of the landing struts of the T-3 shuttle. The ship lurched, then tilted to one side, one of the overlarge wings falling down to crash onto the roof structure of the station. Cassian fell backward, banging back into the shuttle’s cargo ramp and knocking the breath out of his lungs. His head swam, then Kay’s familiar shaped walked past, the gray-clad man held around the waist and dangling from one of his arms.

“I recommend that we leave immediately. Before someone notices that we are stealing their scientist.”

“Good plan. Can’t believe I didn’t think of that one, Kay.”

“Your sarcasm is unnecessary.”

Galen Erso looked up at him groggily, blood dripping from his temple. “Who -”

Cassian righted himself and followed Kay’s trudging steps up the shuttle’s ramp. He spared a moment for the man, the reason they were in this mess. “Your daring rescue. Brought a friend of yours along as well.” Cassian walked over to the ladder that lead up to the cockpit, climbing up enough rungs that he could see into the cabin. Bodhi’s face appeared over the back of the pilot’s seat, a brief flare of elation crossing his features followed by grief. His feelings toward Galen were about as clear-cut as the stutter step of the cliff face in front of them, full of sharp drops and hidden places to trip and fall.

Coming back down the ladder, Cassian watched as Kay dropped Erso into one of the jump seats, pulling the safety harness down over his head roughly. Cassian made note of the blood again and turned to ask Kay about it, but the droid had an answer already prepared. “He was like that when I found him.”

“We need to work on your bluffing skills one of these days.”

“I am perfectly competent—”

Bodhi cut him off, calling down from the cockpit. “Lifting off then!”

Cassian’s comm crackled before he could return the banter, Jyn’s voice sounding strained even as it wavered in volume. “Planning on meeting us back at the U-wing, or should we blow you up as well?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cassian saw Galen lift his head, turning toward the sound of Jyn voice. He wondered if Galen could possibly recognize it, or if he was just recovering from the sudden and unexpected rescue. They’d find out soon enough, he supposed.

“Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

Maneuvering the shuttle into the same canyon as the U-wing made Cassian appreciate Bodhi’s flight skills even more, and that was before he cut the shuttle lights. “Don’t want to give them any more of a target to shoot for,” he explained with a shrug. Cassian curled his fingers around a handhold set into the wall of the shuttle, unconsciously bracing himself. The effort was mostly wasted, the shuttle bumping to a gentle landing. Turning in his seat, Bodhi’s mouth slipped into a pleased sort of smile. It was nice to see him not terrified, for once. Cassian shoved that thought away before it could spread any further.

He cleared his throat, pushing himself back into the mechanics of the mission. “It’s probably best if you stay at the controls, just in case. Either Kay or myself will have to fly the U-wing back. I don’t think any of the others have any flight experience.”

Bodhi nodded, and Cassian didn’t miss how he seemed happy enough to relax into the seat. “Right. See you in a few...or not. Whichever.”

Choosing to ignore Bodhi’s stumbling, Cassian nodded and made his way down the ladder. Kay looked over at him and moved to lower the cargo ramp.

“The Ersos should fly together,” Kay said. “They’ll occupy each other’s emotional volatility. Much as I hate to leave you to your own devices, you should be on the other ship.”

Cassian gave his friend a flat look as they escorted Galen Erso off the shuttle and across the rain-soaked, rocky ground. “I think I can handle myself.”

Kay scoffed. “You always say that, and yet. At least take one of the Guardians with you. The crafty one.”

“It’s a good idea,” Chirrut said from the open doorway of the U-wing. “Baze can absorb incredible stress before he becomes agitated.”

“Of course I can,” came the gruff answer from deeper within the ship. “I’m married to you.”

“Papa?” Jyn pushed her way to the door, and nearly jumped out before Kay picked up the scientist and shoved him aboard. The woman clung to Galen, who had already started crying and murmuring into her hair.

Kaytoo rolled his optics and climbed up to the cockpit. Chirrut, staff in hand, gripped his husband’s hand briefly before jumping down and following Cassian back to the shuttle.

* * *

It was only after the shuttle had successfully shifted into hyperspace that Bodhi finally relaxed. For Cassian, it was as if a vibration under his skin had suddenly stopped, one that he had ignored long enough that it’s absence was jarring. Bodhi rolled one shoulder back slowly, wincing.

“We can get you checked out in medical once we get to base. Until then, we’ll have to make due with whatever’s in the medkit onboard.” Cassian looked around, unfamiliar with the layout of the Imperial craft.

“Should be a compartment to your left, just, ah, pull on the latch there.” Bodhi gestured as he spoke, his voice climbing in pitch when he stretched his arm out to the side.

Finding the compartment, Cassian pulled out a nondescript gray box, the contents inside jumbled together in no particular order. He shuffled through some bandages, bacta suspended in gel, stim tablets loose and crumbling underneath it all. “Good thing this isn’t an emergency. This thing is a mess.”

Bodhi leaned over, peering into the box. “Just... grab a couple of pain relief patches. Those orange ones there.”

Cassian pulled them free, avoiding Bodhi’s outstretched hand and standing up from the co-pilot’s seat. “Here, you won’t be able to reach. If you just pull your coveralls out of the way a bit, I can — I’ll put them on for you.”

“Don’t mind me, I’m doing just fine.” Chirrut grinned at the pair of them when they looked to the back of the upper level, where the Guardian had strapped himself into a spare jump seat, staff laid out across his knees. Cassian knew, rationally, that the man was blind, but he still felt oddly self-conscious standing beside Bodhi as he pulled the dirt ridden coveralls away from his shoulder, exposing the tank top he wore underneath and the long line of his neck.

The urge to put his hand there, to feel the thrum of Bodhi’s pulse against his palm, was almost overwhelming. He couldn’t tell if the longing was coming from him or from Bodhi, but all of it was a reaction to the adrenaline spike of the mission. ‘None of this can be trusted,’ he reminded himself. ‘You can’t be trusted.’

Cassian put the patches on Bodhi’s shoulder with careful fingers, and stepped back, moving to put the medkit back into its compartment. Bodhi tugged his coveralls back into place, clearing his throat and staring out at the stars speeding past. Chirrut made a sort of humming noise, as if he’d just realized something.

“What about you?” Bodhi turned to look at Cassian. “You passed out, before. I don’t know what’s wrong but there should be some electrolyte packets in the next compartment,” he gestured, then snorted when he noticed his hand wavering. “Actually, if there’s more than one I could probably use some.”

Cassian found the packets - there were half a dozen, though they were all a bit past their most effective shelf life, and unflavored. The ship’s water tank had enough in it for all of them.

He passed the first batch to Bodhi, careful not to let their fingers touch on the canteen. The pilot looked like he was going to protest, but Cassian wouldn’t take it back. “You need it the most. I’ll be fine.”

Bodhi relented quickly enough that Cassian knew he must need it. It was easy, deflecting the question - with the exception of Kay, deflection was almost always easy - but for the first time he wanted to say more. If Bodhi stayed with the Alliance, he might have to anyway.

Bodhi took a drink, and Cassian had to tear his eyes away from the bobbing of his throat.

“Are you sure, Captain?” Chirrut asked. “There are fewer of us now, true, but you’re tired, and emotions are still running high.”

Blind or not, Cassian couldn’t help turning a glare on Chirrut.

Bodhi frowned. “Why would...oh.” Surprise and awe and something like sadness radiated from him. He glanced at Chirrut before looking back at Cassian. “I’m sorry, if you were Jedhan I’d know what to say but...well...if I’m doing something wrong, just tell me and I’ll stop.”

“What?” Now Cassian was frowning. “No, Bodhi. You aren’t...you haven’t...you’re fine. You don’t need to change anything.” An urge to lay his hand on Bodhi’s good shoulder swelled up, and Cassian crossed his arms to keep himself from giving in. “Chirrut’s right, I’m tired, but we’ll be on base soon enough. Once I get a little rest I’ll be fine.”

With a tentative smile, Bodhi nodded. Cassian busied himself with looking through the shuttle’s comm log as a distraction.

“I am no Jedi,” Chirrut said into the quiet, “But I do know enough to give guidance. Your shields are heavy, but they are brittle, too. There are techniques to remedy this.”

Cassian froze for a millisecond, then made himself loosen up. It would be…

It would be better, wouldn’t it? Even if he had to let someone get close enough to show him how?

“One reason you might be having trouble,” Chirrut said, and Jedi or not he seemed to know far, far too much, “is that perhaps you use yours more than is wise.”

Cassian scoffed. “Letting my guard down isn’t exactly a good idea in my line of work.”

Chirrut brightened. “Indeed it is not. I’m glad you’re seeing sense already.”

Eyes narrowed, Cassian shook his head. “I’ll stop fighting when I die or when the Empire falls.”

“Maybe not stop,” Chirrut said, voice far too reasonable to be trustworthy. “Maybe take different jobs. Fewer jobs. You can’t help the Rebellion if you’re dead or mad.”

“This is what I'm good at. This, reading people, finding out what drives them, this is what I can do. I can't… I'm not important. If someone dies because they went on a mission I should have taken, that's my fault.” Cassian could feel himself getting more agitated by the second, Bodhi's growing dismay crawling up his spine and the whole argument echoing back at him over and over again. “I can't be up here right now. I'm sorry.”

He made sure not to look at Bodhi as he climbed down the ladder into the cargo hold, focusing on his shaking hands and the way his knuckles turned white as he gripped each rung. It was better, for them to know what he was now. Back at base he'd find a way to disappear.

That was better, for everyone.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time they got to Yavin, Bodhi’s strength was flagging. He set them down with a little turbulence and some scraping of the landing gear against the tarmac, stuttering apologies.

“There’s no damage, it’s fine,” Cassian said. Bodhi smiled, or tried to — he was wavering in his seat and it looked like focusing on anything was difficult. When Cassian lowered his walls slightly, he discovered that Bodhi’s emotions were heavily dampened by exhaustion.

“Okay, I’m taking you to Medical,” he told Bodhi. “They’ll check you over, feed you, find you a bed.”

“I think I could sleep on a pile of rocks if it held still long enough,” Bodhi murmured. Movements slow, he shut the engines down, then swayed to his feet. After a second’s hesitation, Cassian steadied him with a hand at his elbow, and was relieved when the contact failed to overwhelm him. He didn’t know if it was Bodhi’s weariness or if his own strength had been renewed by the relative solitude of the shuttle, but either way it meant he could keep his friend from stumbling.

When asked, Chirrut declined the offer of medical attention, opting for rest and refreshment. He did smile in such a way that implied he knew exactly what was going on between the captain and the pilot, but Cassian was starting to suspect that a knowing smirk was probably just Chirrut’s default expression.

Cassian had led Bodhi halfway to the infirmary when Draven found them. Cassian steeled himself for a reprimand, but the General mostly just looked tired.

“Captain Andor,” he said. “We’re debriefing the scientist. Report to Command at once.”

Cassian nodded at Bodhi, who looked challenged by staying upright. “He needs Medical. I’ll be there as soon as I drop him off.”

“This is the defector pilot?” Draven gave Bodhi a long look. “Tell the medics to check him over and treat any immediate problems. Then I need him there, or someone to bring him a comm.”

“Yes, sir.”

The General left.

“Do you…” Bodhi made a visible effort to dredge up enough energy to talk. “Do you know how long the debrief will take?”

Cassian shook his head. “Could last hours, but you’re not doing any debriefing today. The doctors are going to take one look at you and forbid you do anything but rest for the next cycle.”

There was a long pause while Bodhi processed this. Cassian watched, waiting to see how he would react. “Oh. Good.”

Bodhiwas, Cassian realized, too tired to be anxious about anything, contrary to his impression of the man as a nervous wreck. He’d shown so many different sides already: a shocked and grieving refugee, a concerned comrade-in-arms, a fiercely determined pilot whose skill saved them all. It made Cassian wonder what Bodhi’s other faces were, and how many; more than that, it made him want to know them all.

No. He was going to see Bodhi safe, and then he was going to stay away. For both their sakes.

“Debrief?” Doctor Candroon scoffed as she settled Bodhi onto a bed. “That’s funny. Draven can have Rook tomorrow at the earliest.”

Bodhi and Cassian shared a smile. “Told you.”

“And you,” the doctor said, poking Cassian in the chest, “are going to sit here and eat something before you collapse halfway through a meeting.”

“I have orders—”

“Sit. Eat.” She shoved a ration bar at him. Kay must have commed ahead.

Cassian sighed and acquiesced.

* * *

Minister Pamlo was agitated, though her face stayed calm. “So you’ve kidnapped an Imperial scientist. Have you considered the repercussions that will come from this? The retribution?”

“The people of Jedha have already suffered retribution, Minister. This is an opportunity and we must take advantage of it while we can!” Admiral Raddus did not maintain the same calm. It was probably a good thing that he wasn’t a politician, especially since he adamantly demanded to be heard most of the time.

Draven stood at attention, facing down the council members with his jaw clenched. Cassian was well-acquainted with the General’s feelings on the red tape involved with getting missions approved, and how often he skirted around them to get things done when he needed to. He should have been the one to answer Pamlo’s question, but the Admiral had cut him off, and he had the presence of mind to let that conflict play out before he spoke his piece.

“How can we trust anything he says anyway?” Cassian wasn’t sure who said that, but the message rolled through the council like a wave, sowing doubt along its path.

Galen cleared his throat, and Cassian could see the mask he wore fall back into place, all traces of the man who had clutched his daughter and cried into her hair tucked neatly behind it’s edges. “If I might say something.”

Senator Mothma inclined her head to him, and the rest of the council quieted. Galen gave a curt nod of thanks and turned to face the room. “I did not expect to be standing here today. In fact, I very much expected to die before the message was ever delivered to you.” His mouth tightened, a wry smile flickering at the edges. “There is nothing I can say to prove that my words are the truth, but from my vantage point, you have limited options available. You could imprison me; ignore the threat and pray that it is not your homeworld that the Empire targets next. You could return me to the Empire, under whose care I will undoubtedly not last long. Or you could allow me to show you the failsafe I have been able to build into the Death Star, and find a way to defeat it.”

“Who’s to say we can defeat it? I do agree with one sentiment from that speech, we should lock him up.” Senator Vaspar twitched nervously. Cassian didn’t need to read him to see how uncomfortable he was with the situation.

Jyn had been quiet up to that point, though she shot a glare at Vaspar then. Cassian hoped she realized that rage would get her nowhere; they were already treading a thin line with civilian politicians butted up against military minded people like Raddus and Draven. Instead, her voice cracked as she spoke, and she stepped unconsciously in front of Galen like she could somehow shield him. “Please. Just...listen. This is your only chance. You didn’t.” She paused, then clenched her jaw and shook her head a little. “You weren’t there on Jedha. We’ve seen what it can do.”

Draven looked over at Cassian. They hadn’t had a chance to talk alone yet, though he knew it was coming. The reports about Jedha had brought the council together, and their sudden arrival with Galen had thrown everyone into a flurry of action. Cassian met his eyes and nodded. It was true. Galen was their best and only chance.

“We can decide what to do with Doctor Erso later. For now, I believe that having more information is always better than having less. If he can provide us with intel on this weapon, I’d like to know what it is.” Draven commanded the room almost as well as Mothma did, and Cassian could feel the crowd, small tendrils of hope reaching up out of the sea of fear and doubt.

Someone handed Galen a datapad and a stylus, and he began to sketch out a basic set of plans for the weapon. Cassian stopped paying attention after a moment, exhaustion beginning to set in. It took all the will he had left to keep himself shielded off from the emotions of that many people in close quarters. Without Kaytoo there to ground himself against, everything melded together into an atmospheric roar.

“That’s impossible! Kriff, you’d need a Jedi to make that shot.” That was Antilles, a pilot and another defector that Cassian only knew by reputation. He stiffened at the mention of Jedi regardless, eyes casting around for anyone looking in his direction. The only thing of interest was the strange look passing between Senator Mothma and Senator Organa. They knew something, and they weren’t planning to share it with the group.

Seemed like he wasn’t the only one that had secrets.

* * *

Draven fixed Cassian with a calculating look as he entered the General’s office. He gestured for Cassian to sit and kept looking at him for a long moment.

Cassian had seen that stare unnerve the toughest operatives he knew, himself included. Knowing his superior officer’s emotions didn’t really mitigate the threat of court-martial, after all. But after Tivik and Bodhi’s fractured mind and all of NiJedha, Cassian didn’t have any fuel left for fear.

“Explain.”

Cassian took a breath. He thought about arguing for the strategic worth of having Erso with them, or telling Draven that Jyn and the others had prevented him from carrying out his orders, but he didn’t have the fuel left for lies, either.

“I couldn’t go through with it.”

Draven’s frown deepened, and disappointment and anger buffeted Cassian. “Because of the girl?”

Cassian shook his head. “Only a little because of her. Mostly it was Jedha.” They were light years away, now, but Cassian could still feel the echo of all their deaths like thousands of bruises on the inside of his chest.

“What about Jedha?” Draven was frustrated now. He didn’t understand.

Cassian was surprised, though he felt it dully. Did Draven not know? Cassian had always thought it was apparent, an obvious, logical conclusion to how he worked. Had Draven not made the connection?

“Tens of thousands of people died,” Cassian said. “I was close enough to feel it.”

Draven’s confusion only lasted a couple of seconds, and then it shifted into dread. It was strong enough to show on the General’s face.

“You felt their deaths,” Draven said, voice completely flat.

Cassian had suspected, but it still made the floor tilt under him to realize that until now Draven hadn’t known the full effects of his orders. “Yes, sir.”

“How close were you?”

“Maybe twelve kilometers.”

Draven’s jaw clenched. “Is that a typical range for you?”

“No, the sheer number made it much longer. Usually I only feel deaths when they’re within half a kilometer or so.”

It was distantly fascinating to watch Draven silently tally up Cassian’s body count.

“How long,” Draven said, a little choked. He had to stop and swallow. “How long has this been the case?”

Cassian considered. It had been ages since he’d thought about a time he couldn’t feel death. “I think it started when I was about eleven.”

All the blood drained from Draven’s face.

“Son of a kriffing Sith.” He leaned forward and covered his face with both hands momentarily. When he took them away, Cassian was a little shocked to see that his eyes were red and glistening. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cassian sighed. “I thought it was obvious. I’m sorry I wasn’t clearer, sir.”

“‘Sorry.’” Draven stared. “No. You’re not the one who should be sorry.”

Cassian shook his head. “I always knew what the job entailed, sir.”

Draven’s eyes narrowed. “I—” He took a deep breath. Another. Cassian averted his eyes while the General pulled himself together.

“You’re on leave for three days,” Draven said. “After that, you’re assigned to planning and analysis. Indefinitely.”

Before, he would have protested, but as things were now, Cassian could only accept the news. “Understood, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

As Cassian turned to leave, Draven still ramrod straight in his chair, he caught a wave of the General’s emotions, a mix of anger, fear, sadness, horror; but strongest by far was guilt.


	5. Chapter 5

The logical part of Cassian knew that he should go to his quarters and sleep for those three days. Every other part of him insisted that he needed to check on the Guardians, on Jyn and her father. On Bodhi, most of all. He envied Kaytoo sometimes, for being able to follow the logical part of his processing.

Cassian groaned to himself and turned down the hall from Draven’s office, heading toward the medical wing. Maybe Doctor Candroon would sedate him and keep him from doing something stupid. He probably wasn’t that lucky.

The medbay was fairly quiet, only a few long-term patients scattered around behind partially drawn curtains. An FX-7 droid trundled around, burbling to itself as it checked vitals and administered medications. Cassian skirted around it, walking toward where he had left the pilot.

Stopping just outside the curtain enclosing Bodhi’s bed, Cassian hesitated. He shouldn’t have been there. It was better for everyone if he left Bodhi alone; he’d known that from the beginning, and even if it hadn’t been, the pilot probably just wanted some peace and quiet.

“Are you going to stand out there all day or are you going to come in?” Bodhi’s voice startled him out of his thoughts and he pushed the curtain to one side.

“How did you know I was there?”

Bodhi looked exhausted still, dark circles under his eyes, but some of the color seemed to have returned to his skin, or at least the sweat and dirt had been washed away. Sitting up against the head of the bed, Bodhi smiled briefly.

“Could see your feet under the curtain.”

Cassian looked down at his feet, tapping his toes lightly against the duracrete floor. He kept his hand gripped on the curtain, not stepping any closer. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Bodhi shrugged, his shoulders twitching up around his ears. “Yeah. I have trouble sometimes. In new places. Kind of wondering if I’m going to wake up and realize I’m still back on Jedha, even though that’s ridiculous. Not sure if my imagination is good enough to have made all this up.”

Cassian still had enough energy left for his heart to clench. He tried to keep his voice steady. “I can get you a sedative, if you want.”

Bodhi mouth twisted to the side. “No, I — that doctor offered before actually, but. Could you maybe...just sit with me for a while? If you’re not...you probably have better things to do, but if you aren’t busy.”

Bodhi wanted Cassian there. Enough to ask. Cassian had to fight very hard not to rush to his side and do something inadvisable. If he were being smart, he’d take the out he'd been given.

Instead, he pulled the visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down, close enough for talking to be easy but not so close that he’d be overly tempted to touch Bodhi.

“The Council met,” he said, trying to steer away from the warm, heavy feeling in his chest. “They haven’t made any decisions yet, so Galen is not officially in Alliance custody, but he’s not welcome to leave, either.”

Bodhi drew his knees up toward his chest, wrapping his arms around them and leaning his cheek against his arm. “That’s… good, I suppose. That they’re willing to listen. Do you think they’ll believe him? He’s just another Imp, at the end of the day.” He paused, then closed his eyes before continuing. “Like me.”

Was Cassian feeling Bodhi’s distress, or was it his own? He couldn’t tell.

“Hey, no,” Cassian said. “You went through hell to deliver the message.” Bodhi shrugged, still not raising his eyes, and Cassian could only hold himself back for a heartbeat before laying a hand on Bodhi’s arm for reassurance. “You got us to Eadu safely, Galen is alive, and we have a chance to stop the Death Star, all because of you, Bodhi. You’re not an Imp. You’re—” _You’re a hero_ , he stopped himself from saying, trying to keep that much distance between them. “One of us.”

Bodhi lifted his head, eyes searching over Cassian’s face like he was trying to decide if Cassian was telling the truth. He untangled his arms from around his legs and covered Cassian's hand with his own. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of that if it weren’t for you.” Bodhi’s voice was quiet, but sincere. “Thank you, for not leaving me there.”

Cassian swallowed his guilt. When they’d left Jedha, as much as he'd wanted to save Bodhi, he’d still been acting mostly out of mission necessity. He didn’t want Bodhi to know that, and he couldn’t tell if he was sparing Bodhi or himself by not explaining. It was yet another reason why he shouldn’t be getting involved.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, either,” Cassian said instead, cursing his weakness. He told himself to pull his hand back, too, but was unable to follow the command, Bodhi’s warmth pinning him to the spot. The best he could manage was not making things worse.

Whatever tension had been left in Bodhi’s body seemed to slide away, and he slumped back, hand wrapping around Cassian’s as he settled against the pillow. He blinked a few times, slowly, eyes starting to drift closed. “Sorry. Think everything’s starting to catch up with me now. Don’t want you to think you’re boring me or anything.”

Words failing him, Cassian shook his head and squeezed Bodhi’s hand.

Bodhi smiled sleepily. “Maybe just stay until I fall asleep? Then you can go back to whatever you’re supposed to be doing.”

Cassian had to hold back hysterical laughter. What he was supposed to be doing was keeping himself away from Bodhi. Instead, he nodded and said, “I can do that.”

Bodhi kept hold of Cassian’s hand until his breathing had evened out. Even then he didn’t let go, really, just relaxed enough for Cassian to gently slip free. However light the grip, it was far more difficult than it should have been.

Cassian made himself stand. He straightened Bodhi’s blanket, pulled askew by his position changes, and only barely managed to not smooth the pilot’s hair away from his face. He turned on his heel then, walked stiffly to his own quarters, and prepared for sleep. He tried to focus on mission statistics, what the Council would likely decide, Kaytoo’s upcoming software update — anything, really, other than Bodhi’s lovely face and fierce heart and Cassian’s complete inability to say no to his requests.

It didn’t work. He was so kriffed.

* * *

Cassian rolled over in bed, the soft ping of the message notification on his datapad pulling him out of the half-asleep state he’d been in. He was beginning to regret accepting Draven’s order of leave so easily. Without the distraction of work, the constant state of motion, he was left with far too much time with only his own thoughts to keep him company. It had only been thirty-six hours. He didn’t want to think about how bad it would be once three days had passed.

<Requested escort of defector BODHI ROOK from medical to debrief with MAJOR FALSTOM KASSAL.>

<Please respond Y/N.>

Cassian sat up in bed, already shoving the blankets off his legs and swinging his feet to the ground as his fingers brought up the message reply screen.

<YES. ETA 15 minutes.>

That would be enough time to shower and dress without looking like he’d been desperately waiting for a reason to go see Bodhi again.

When he arrived at medbay, he had to dodge a pack of nurses and medi-droids all hustling to the far end of the ward. Someone was in trouble, and Cassian spared a moment to bolster the medical team’s resolve.

He found Bodhi already seated on the edge of his bed. His Imperial flight suit had been traded for standard-issue shirt and pants. He looked up and smiled when Cassian approached, lifting his foot up onto the mattress to fasten the buckles on his boots. Dressed like that, he could blend in anywhere on base. Cassian was surprised by how good that thought made him feel, that Bodhi belonged here with them.

“Hey, I’m supposed to escort you to Major Kassal for your debrief. Are you almost ready?”

Bodhi dropped his foot back to the floor and stood up, twisting to one side until something popped in his spine. “Kriff, I’ve been in that bed for too long. I think I’m as ready as I’m going to get.”

Cassian smiled and nodded in the direction of the exit. “Procedure requires two Intelligence officers to be present. Major Kassal will most likely choose Lieutenant Osh, her assistant, though it might be Lieutenant Sereta instead.”

Bodhi nodded, starting to look more nervous. “Oh. I was sort of hoping... Well. Nevermind.”

Even through his walls, Cassian could feel Bodhi’s apprehension. He wanted to calm the pilot badly enough that he felt the need to clamp down on his abilities, lest he accidentally influence Bodhi. “I don’t know how long it will last, but there will be a break every hour and a half, lunch at the usual time, and they won’t make you continue after dinner. I’m afraid your introduction to the Alliance will be very boring.”

Bodhi laughed. “I suppose there’s bureaucracy wherever you go.” He tugged at the cuffs of his shirt, pulling them down over the palms of his hands in what must have been an ingrained habit. “I guess it would be silly for them to have you debrief me, since you were there for most of the action already.”

Cassian nodded, though he was fighting not to offer to be present regardless of protocol. It even made strategic sense to try to make a traumatized asset as comfortable as possible.

He didn’t reach a resolution. In the background, there was a swell of noise and urgency around the emergency patient, and then their life was pulled violently from the world, tearing through Cassian as it went. It felt like ripping stitches open, the deaths of Jedha spilling through him all over again.

Above him, Bodhi said something he couldn’t make out. Above? Oh. He was on his hands and knees.

“Cassian? Look at me,” Bodhi said, now in front of him.

It was a monumental effort, but Cassian did. Bodhi looked worried.

“Sorry.”

Bodhi’s hand hovered over his arm, but he didn’t close the distance. “What can I do? Should I call someone? I don’t - I don’t know where Chirrut is, but I could try to get Kaytoo here, if it would help.”

“No,” Cassian said. “I don’t think— I need— ” He stopped. Swallowed. “Just stay with me a moment.”

It was a bad idea, but Cassian couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to grasp Bodhi’s arm. The warmth - the connection -

He closed his eyes, trying to keep the pain from touching Bodhi, drawing strength from the other man’s presence.

His breathing began to steady, and the world started to feel normal again.

“I won’t go anywhere. I don’t - I don’t know what you’re doing, but - whatever you need, okay?”

Cassian’s eyes snapped open and he pulled away, mourning the loss of Bodhi’s warmth but more horrified at what he’d done. “I’m sorry, I tried not to— this was a bad idea, I should have stayed away—”

He pushed himself to his feet, shaky but upright, and made for the door, waving away the medi-droid that had trundled over to investigate his collapse.

“Cassian, wait!” Bodhi scrambled to his feet, following after Cassian and almost tripping over that same medi-droid. “Please, you don’t have to be alone. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but it’s alright. I’m fine, I promise.”

Cassian nearly stumbled over how much he wanted that to be true. “No,” he said. “I can’t— I’m too dangerous. If I stay near you I’ll just wind up forcing my feelings on you. I’ve probably already started.” He stopped, turned enough to see Bodhi behind him, just outside reach, upset and determined. Cassian wanted nothing as much as he longed to close that distance, to let himself be comforted. But for Bodhi’s sake, he refused to give in.

“I’m sorry. You’ll see when I’ve been gone a few days and your feelings go back to normal.” He drew his data pad out of his jacket. “I’m calling Lieutenant Osh, they’ll come escort you to the debrief.”

Bodhi took a step back. “I don’t understand. Whatever I’m feeling, that isn’t - you haven’t changed any of that. If you need proof of that, fine. Tomorrow, the next day - whenever. I’ll still feel the same.”

Cassian felt his heart beating against the inside of his chest, urging him towards Bodhi. He ignored it.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and left.


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn’t inappropriate for Cassian to follow Bodhi’s debrief through official reports. He was an Intelligence officer, after all. Keeping track of new intel and new personnel — even if Bodhi hadn’t officially joined the Alliance, or indicated what assignments he might be interested in — was absolutely part of Cassian’s job.

It was a little irregular for him to watch the debrief holos. Not all of them — they totalled just under fourteen hours — or at least, not at normal speed.

The door to his quarters swished open, and Cassian managed not to jump, but only because he froze instead.

Kaytoo ducked inside and loomed over him. “You’re going to miss dinner. Again.”

“I had a ration bar. Don’t be a nag.” He fought back the urge to turn the holopad over, as it would only draw Kay’s attention to what he had been doing.

“Ration bars are incomplete nutrition. Now that you’re on base there’s no reason to skip meals.” Kaytoo put one finger on Cassian’s shoulder, pushing just enough to be uncomfortable. “And I wouldn’t have to ‘nag’ if you’d take proper care of yourself.”

“I’m supposed to be resting. I hardly think surrounding myself with the collected emotional toll of an entire base worth of people is going to help me get myself back under control.” He swatted at Kay’s hand ineffectually. “Would you stop doing that?”

Kaytoo lingered for exactly three seconds before withdrawing his hand. “I will accompany you to the mess. Or you could request a meal be brought to you.”

Cassian opened his mouth to retort, but then Kaytoo’s arm shot past him to pick up the holopad. The droid looked at it, then at Cassian.

“Resting. Of course. How could I have ever mistaken it for poor self-care and obsessive brooding?”

Cassian grabbed for the holopad, pulling it out of Kay’s hand. “I’m not being obsessive. I brought them onto the base, it’s well within the scope of my job to follow through on their debrief proceedings.” Nevermind that he hadn’t pulled up any of the footage of the others. Kay didn’t need to know that.

“Somehow I doubt that you’ve been watching footage of the Guardians’ or the Ersos’ debriefs,” Kay said, voice dry. “And you’re lying poorly about it. Your behavior is more worrisome than usual.”

Cassian dragged his hands over his face and slumped over his desk. “It’s been three days, Kay. More than enough time for him to understand.” He dropped his hands onto the desk, then pushed the holopad to one side, steeling himself against the ache in his chest. “You’re right. It’s time to let this go. The sooner I put this behind me, the sooner I’ll be able to get cleared for missions again.”

Kay simulated a sigh. “Bodhi didn’t get you grounded, but even if he had, his presence has been more helpful to you than any other single factor,” the droid said, “And his absence has been detrimental. You should attempt a relationship.”

“I’m sorry, did you forget what happened the last time? I can’t go through that again.” He stood up and patted Kay lightly on the chest plate. “Come on, you can take me to dinner if it will make you feel useful.”

Kaytoo looked at him silently, then turned and opened the door. He gave Cassian plenty of judgy looks all through dinner, but didn’t say anything except to describe his dinner’s nutritional content in excruciating detail.

Tomorrow Cassian would go see Bodhi, make sure he was settled, and say goodbye. Closure, for everyone involved.

* * *

Citing Cassian’s previous statement about needing to rest his defenses, the droid spent the night standing in the corner of the Captain’s quarters. Cassian swallowed his irritation at not being free to watch Bodhi’s debrief holo, finished up a few pieces of datawork that needed submitting, and then, lacking anything better to do, went to sleep.

When he woke the next morning, he felt better rested than he had in nearly a week. Strong enough to do what needed to be done.

“You look less terrible today,” Kaytoo said, self-satisfied.

Cassian grunted and pulled on his clothes.

“See? You’re not even trying to deny it,” Kay said, far too cheerfully, in Cassian’s opinion. “I’ll walk you to breakfast.”

Cassian sighed. Kay always made sure that the consequences of ignoring his health were more annoying than taking care of it.

After he dutifully ate a balanced meal, Kaytoo finally cut him loose (though he wouldn’t be surprised if the droid showed up later to march him to lunch). Cassian squared his shoulders and made for Medical, careful to reinforce his walls this time.

He hadn’t even made it halfway when the evacuation sirens started blaring throughout the base. Everyone froze momentarily, then started scrambling.

Cassian wasn’t sure if he was glad that Intelligence and Medical both took priority during an evacuation, or that Bodhi was still under observation despite recovering from the dehydration and minor injuries he’d accumulated while in Saw’s custody. It spared him from having to make the decision to defy procedure to ensure Bodhi’s escape, but it also meant he’d need to watch himself extra closely if they wound up on the same transport.

Moving against the flow of people was difficult. Blocking out the panic that they were all feeling was worse, and he silently (and begrudgingly) thanked Kay for helping him sleep the night before. When he was finally able to push his way into the medical ward, they were well on their way to evacuating patients. He saw Doctor Candroon and made his way over to her, scanning the room for Bodhi as he went.

“Doctor!”

Looking up from her datapad, the harried looking doctor blew a stray piece of hair out of her face and folded her arms across her chest. “If you aren’t here to help, I need you out of the way, Captain.”

“I was looking for Bodhi - Mr. Rook, the pilot? I don’t see him anywhere.” Cassian tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, he could feel the stress coming off of her already and didn’t think he’d get anywhere by adding to it.

Raising one eyebrow, she tapped on the screen of her datapad a few times. “Rook is already accounted for en route to _Home One_. Ambulatory patients went up with the first wave.”

Relief rushing over him, Cassian let out a breath and smiled at the doctor. “Thank you.” He looked around the room, tallying up the number of patients still confined to their beds. “I’m no nurse, but if you need another set of hands, I’m certainly willing to help however I can.”

The look that crossed her face was only slightly terrifying, tempered by the way her stress level seemed to drop off at his offer. “You may regret saying that, Captain, but I will absolutely put you to work.”

It occurred to Cassian, half an hour later as he secured a critical patient on a transport and steeled himself against the soldier's pain, that maybe the medical team hadn't been the best place for him. If patients died on the transport — if dying patients were brought in thanks to the space battle — he still might not be able to handle it. So far all the casualties were either minor injuries or deaths above atmo, far enough away that they only registered in the dragging weight of loss in the people around him. He didn't know what would happen if the Death Star took a shot, or if the battle came down to the moon's surface.

It turned out that his worries were irrelevant. As he was settling patients into _Home One_ ’s medbay, Cassian suddenly got the feeling that a huge dark cloud had blotted out the sky. He didn't know what it meant. He'd never felt anything like it.

But a few moments later, there was a wave of relief and joy spreading through the ship. The sound of people cheering began to filter into the ward. Doctor Candroon looked up from her patient and walked over to the door, stopping someone who had been rushing past. She came back in wearing a relieved smile, announcing, “They’ve done it. The Death Star was destroyed.”

Elation warred with guilt inside Cassian. He couldn’t help but wonder how many people might have been halfway to Bodhi's crisis of conscience, their lives snuffed out before they had the chance to defect. For survival or retribution; it was just another path to someone’s death. By the time this war had finished playing out, no one would have clean hands. Some part of Cassian's conscience thought he should have been able to tell the difference as they died, but the darkness that had rolled through him didn't show any favor for Rebel pilots. They’d done it, though, used their lives to push back the evil at their doorstep.

Cassian tore himself out of his thoughts and looked around, buoyed up by the feeling of hope that permeated the ward. It helped combat his own conflicting emotions, even as he longed to know how Bodhi was reacting to the news. He should be on board somewhere, but Cassian hadn’t managed to find him yet. Or maybe he was just avoiding the inevitable fallout; it was difficult to separate the two things in his mind.

Cassian took a deep breath and stirred his resolve. He’d started the day with a purpose, and he intended to see it through to the end.

* * *

He didn’t find Bodhi. Instead, he found Chirrut, flanked by Kaytoo, and looking far too smug for someone that couldn’t see his face.

“Lost your pilot, have you?” he asked, hand balanced on his staff as he worked his way down the hall.

Cassian huffed, and lifted his eyes up to Kay’s face with a grimace. “He isn’t my pilot, Master Îmwe, although I am looking for him, as I assume Kaytoo has told you.”

Faster than Cassian could react, Chirrut flipped the staff over in his hand, jabbing one end up against Cassian’s chest. “I thought I was the blind one here.”

“Cassian’s eyesight has been measured at - Oh. I see, you were attempting to be humorous.” Kaytoo paused for a moment, as if considering the joke. “Clever, although somewhat self-deprecating.”

“Yes, he’s hilarious,” Cassian groaned. “Please don’t try to teach him any jokes. He ended up insulting a Parwan leader last time, almost got himself electrocuted.”

Chirrut chuckled. “You are very skilled at deflection, Captain, but the Force does not lie. The pilot is connected to you and you will only damage yourself further trying to cut that thread.”

“I managed just fine before I met him. He’ll realize that he’s better off without me soon enough.” Cassian pushed away the staff pressing into his sternum. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m sure I can find him without your help.”

“Your definition of ‘fine’ is nonstandard,” Kaytoo said. “Most people consider a breakdown every forty-one point seven days problematic.”

Cassian bristled and glared at his friend.

“I have found,” Chirrut said, carefully sliding his words into the tense atmosphere, “that meditation can reduce stress and increase strength and clarity of mind.”

Cassian crossed his arms. “Sitting quietly won’t make my problems go away.”

“Not with an attitude like that,” Chirrut said lightheartedly. “Have you tried it before?”

“No,” Cassian said. “Because I know it won’t work.”

Chirrut sighed. “As you will. My offer stands as long as I’m here.” Then he sobered. “But listen, Captain. If you go to him like this, I suspect more than the two of you will suffer. Right now, you are fuel cell with a cracked casing.”

Anger flared in Cassian, and he turned and stalked away. But the farther he got, the more he was reminded of Chirrut’s uncanny perceptiveness and Kaytoo’s intimate familiarity with him.

The Guardian was right about Cassian’s current state. And in the close quarters of a ship, another breakdown now could hurt dozens of people.

Raking a hand through his hair, Cassian changed course. Today he would find his quarters, familiarize himself with _Home One_ ’s layout, and get back to work. It meant he would have to live with the lump of dread and despair in his stomach for that much longer, but if that’s what it took to protect his fellow rebels, so be it.


	7. Chapter 7

“Pull the air deeply into your lungs. Let your belly expand with it,” Chirrut said.

Cassian complied. After a few breaths, he did start to feel some of the tension in his shoulders loosen.

He sighed. Kaytoo was going to hold this over his head for weeks, even if the meditation only helped a little bit.

“Some people like to imagine the air has color, and imagine it flowing into their bodies. Others visualize their lungs working, their circulatory system pumping, watching their bodies’ processes. Personally, I like to think about the carbon I’m providing for plants, and appreciating the oxygen they give us.”

Cassian grunted. He discarded the color idea — too reminiscent of poison gas. Imagining his respiratory and circulatory systems weren’t too bad.

That went on for twenty breaths. Cassian was getting bored. “Okay, I’ve been visualizing. What now?”

Chirrut hummed. “That place in yourself that connects you to others. Examine how it feels. Don’t alter it,” the Guardian instructed. “Just observe.”

Cassian, as soon as he was thinking about the Force and his abilities, had raised his walls. He concentrated, lowered them, felt Chirrut’s tranquil desire to help, the anxiety of someone in the neighboring room, the focused determination of another walking by in the corridor outside. Then Cassian tried to let go, but every time he did, his defenses went right back up.

“It’s not working.”

“That’s all right,” Chirrut said without hesitation or disappointment. “It can be very difficult to counteract a habit. You should keep trying, though. Just letting yourself exist, without performing a specific function, is worthwhile. Especially for workaholics like you.”

Cassian snorted. “We’re at war.”

“War or peace, you’re still human,” Chirrut said. “You have needs. Your connection to the Force is one of them.”

“I think I’m done for today,” Cassian said, and opened his eyes. Chirrut’s eyes were also open, but then again it didn’t matter.

Chirrut nodded. “You made progress with breathwork. And I sensed relaxation from you, though it was brief. I recommend trying that again, too.”

Cassian stood. Shrugged. The lowered tension was nice. “I might.”

Smiling, Chirrut got to his feet and gestured in the direction of the desk. Cassian wasn’t sure if that was because all the quarters on the ship were the same or if the Guardian knew for some other reason. “I will leave you to your work, Captain.”

“Thank you,” Cassian said, and meant it.

* * *

Several meditation sessions later, Cassian had twice succeeded in ‘simple observation’ of his own Force connection. It hadn’t told him much, but the Guardian seemed pleased nonetheless.

“Keep your senses open,” Chirrut said. “You feel my presence, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now reach out to me.”

Cassian hesitated. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to be altering. Just observing.”

“Connection isn’t alteration,” Chirrut said. “You must connect in order to alter, but you need not alter once connected.”

The deep breath Cassian took didn’t do much to ground him, but it gave him enough time to gather his courage and then do as Chirrut suggested.

The Guardian had plenty of emotions, Cassian learned once he dared reach out: amusement, concern, weariness, anger, grief, love. But where Cassian might have been overwhelmed by such feeling, Chirrut let them flow through him, himself only as affected as a tree in a breeze.

Cassian envied that. He could ignore his feelings entirely, but only for limited periods of time before they came crashing back.

“Good,” Chirrut said aloud. “Now, I’m going to reach out to you as well. I want you to pay close attention to the differences between our emotions.”

“Okay.”

Cassian didn’t have time to be apprehensive; as soon as he’d assented, he was surrounded with those same feelings he’d felt in Chirrut. He lost himself in them at first, unable to distinguish between himself and the other; but the ebb and flow of the Guardian’s feelings remained consistent, and soon Cassian had a sense of himself as a shore to Chirrut’s waves. He felt Chirrut’s strength, knew the other could push harder and overwhelm him or try to mold Cassian’s heart into a new shape. He didn’t.

“Do you see?” Chirrut said softly. “Just as a touch can be violent or friendly, so can your use of the Force.”

“I trust my hands more than the Force.”

“With practice, you will gain confidence.” Chirrut pulled himself back from Cassian without leaving a trace. “I’m sure you have friends who would be willing to help.”

Cassian frowned. Sure, he was a little better than before, but he could still easily manipulate someone without meaning to. “That’s a bad idea.”

Inclining his head, Chirrut pursed his lips. “Why are you so determined to deny yourself connection?”

Frustrated, Cassian crossed his arms. “Connections can be dangerous. If I influence someone — if I push my emotions on them, how can I ever be sure that they aren’t just reflecting what I want?”

Tension began to creep through him, and Cassian couldn’t stand to be sitting still any longer. He stood up, pacing around the small space of his quarters. Chirrut remained as calm as ever, but what could have been peaceful only seemed to make Cassian more agitated.

“You do not need to find peace in me. It already exists inside yourself. Let the Force travel through you.”

“I know! I know.” Cassian took a deep breath, then another, reaching for the feeling of just existing.

Chirrut spoke carefully, measuring each word before saying them. “You do not have to be afraid of your past. We must accept our actions, and learn from them without allowing them to have power over us.”

All of the emotions swirling around inside Cassian were his own, but he still felt like he was choking on them. The worst was hope, fighting to overwhelm his grief and fear.

“Whatever you ultimately choose,” Chirrut said, rising to his feet, “your pilot deserves to know that you find no fault in him."

Cassian took a deep breath. Chirrut was right. After everything Bodhi had done for the Rebellion, everything he’d been through - after all the ways he'd helped Cassian - he deserved to know why Cassian couldn't be with him.

“Yeah,” Cassian said. “I’ll explain.”

* * *

Cassian stood in front of Bodhi's quarters, clenched fist held inches away from the door. Some part of him knew that he'd put this off for too long, all but abandoning the man who had given up everything for the Rebellion. Guilt gnawed at him, but, finally, he took a deep breath and knocked.

The face that appeared as the door opened didn't belong to Bodhi, however. Instead, he found the cool, stern gaze of Galen Erso, his impassive face somehow projecting both disinterest and disdain at once. Was that look for him, or just the shape his face had settled to after years of Imperial scrutiny?

“Doctor Erso. I - hadn't expected to find you here.” Trying and failing to keep his voice steady, Cassian leaned to one side to look past Galen’s broad shoulders. “I was coming to speak with Bodhi. Is he...?”

Galen's mouth pursed slightly, but before he could speak, Bodhi came up behind him and placed a hand on his arm, gently nudging Galen forward. “Yes, I — Galen was just leaving.” Galen turned his head toward Bodhi and raised an eyebrow, somewhat judgmentally in Cassian's opinion.

Bodhi huffed. “Don't give me that look. It's fine.”

After a moment, Galen pushed past Cassian and walked down the corridor. Cassian swallowed. He deserved whatever ire the man held for him; he had been ordered to kill the scientist, after all. He suspected that Galen would be more than capable of returning the favor, if he chose to. Pulling his attention back, Cassian walked into Bodhi's room and closed the door.

“You've been avoiding me.” Cassian had expected anger, but Bodhi mostly looked exhausted, darting glances at him like he was afraid to let his gaze linger.

Cassian dragged a hand through his hair. “I know. I — I shouldn't have, but, kriff. Will you let me explain at least?”

“I don't know. I feel like you've already made up your mind. Are you going to say anything that won't break my heart?” Cassian's breath caught in his throat, his chest aching at the thought.

He ignored the pain. He was good at that. “A clean break is the best I can offer you,” he said, walls closed around him like durasteel, keeping his gaze on a point just over Bodhi’s shoulder. “I’m not fit to be around. I make people feel things, mostly for the good of the Rebellion, but I’ve done it to allies, too. To people I was close to. I accidentally compelled someone into an entire relationship.” He swallowed, and finally met Bodhi’s eyes. “I’d rather space myself than do that to you, and the only way to be sure is to stay away.”

Bodhi's eyes widened at the confession, and he stepped forward, stopping when Cassian backed away. His mouth dipped down at the corners, hurt and sadness flashing in his eyes. He looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath. When he looked up, that same determination that drew Cassian to him had replaced everything, pinning Cassian in place.

“Just because you can feel my emotions, doesn’t mean you get to decide what’s best for me. I may not have the Force, but I can see you very clearly.” Bodhi was breathing heavily now, color rising on his cheeks. He stepped closer and traced his fingertips over Cassian's face. “I see you. And everything I feel for you comes from my own heart.”

Cassian wavered. He shouldn’t have let himself even consider it, not after all the people he’d hurt. He should have kept his resolve, knowing that he could survive solitude (or, if he couldn’t, that he’d already lived longer than expected). He should have stepped away, turned around, left, and never come back.

But Bodhi was a star radiating light and warmth into the deep space of Cassian’s soul, so good he didn’t want to resist it, and so strong that Cassian allowed himself to believe that maybe he wasn’t in danger of smothering it.

Cassian covered Bodhi’s hand with his own, closed his eyes, and took a centering breath. Heart pounding like it never had during a session with Chirrut, Cassian slowly, carefully lowered his walls.

Bodhi’s emotions flowed over him, determination the strongest among them, and Cassian wanted nothing more than to let himself be overwhelmed. Instead, he found the strength to keep himself open and tentatively brush his own feelings against Bodhi’s. Bodhi gasped, his free hand coming up to press against his chest.

Cassian almost pulled away at Bodhi’s confusion, but he remembered his own disorientation with Chirrut and tried to keep his emotions as steady as possible (though dealing with Cassian’s fear and hope and longing couldn’t have been pleasant). Still, Bodhi was quicker than he had been to acclimate, and after only a few breaths he relaxed. When Cassian opened his eyes it was to a smile spreading slowly across Bodhi’s face.

“I - is that you?” Bodhi asked, wonder filling his voice. “Is this how it feels for you all the time?”

Curiosity surged up, and Cassian grasped Bodhi’s arms to steady himself. “Yes and no. I'm not usually connected to anyone like we are now, but I also feel everyone in range. That's why I close myself off.” The longer he held himself in place, the easier it was to feel the differences between their emotions. It made him all the more aware of how lonely he’d been all these years, separate, isolated. Bodhi leaned in toward him, wrapping an arm around his back and keeping the other trapped between them.

“Cassian,” Bodhi whispered, curling his fingers into the front of Cassian's shirt, desire rising. Cassian’s pulse, relaxed by their initial connection, started to pick up again. It wasn’t a surprise when Bodhi tipped his face up, tugging Cassian down to his mouth, their lips meeting softly, their breath mingling as they drew back and pushed forward again more insistently.

Warmth seemed to wrap around him, and Cassian knew that it was Bodhi's feelings for him, as careful and fierce as the man himself. He brought one hand up to cup the nape of Bodhi's neck, his fingers tangling in the messy braid there. Bodhi whimpered softly, his mouth falling open and the tip of his tongue dragging a line of heat along the seam of Cassian's lips.

Trying to follow his training, Cassian let Bodhi's feelings wash over him, his own emotions finding their counterpart, but somehow staying separate instead of multiplying against each other. Bodhi's joy to his own more tempered happiness, Bodhi's longing matching his own desperate need for connection, a low simmering desire from both of them, each soft kiss building that heat higher.

He could have easily given in, but more than he longed to put his hands and mouth all over Bodhi, he wanted to move carefully, to do this right. Cassian pulled back, resting his forehead against Bodhi's and trying to calm his breathing. Bodhi pulled his hand free and cupped Cassian's jaw, then drew back and pressed a series of kisses along the other side and down the line of Cassian's throat.

Bodhi laughed softly, his breath damp against Cassian's skin. “I guess I don't need to tell you how I feel, do I?”

Cassian swallowed and looked down to meet Bodhi's eyes. “Say it anyway,” he rasped, memories dragging up from the depths of his mind: a quiet place outside the bustle of the city, dishes clean and resting on the rack, his father watching over him and his mother’s afghan laid over his shoulders. A home, and a person waiting for him and wanting him there.

“I'm in love with you,” Bodhi said, his warmth gently enveloping Cassian's heart. It was new, disorienting, but good. Perfect.

“I love you, too,” he said, and it was surreal how easy it was to say. He traced his fingers over Bodhi’s face, needing the touch to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. “But, I’m sorry. I have no idea how to be close to someone.”

Bodhi’s eyes softened a little, but his smile was playful. “I’ll show you the ropes. You’re smart, I’m sure you’ll pick it up quick enough.”

Cassian laughed, and took every bit of joy and tenderness and affection he felt, wrapping them around Bodhi.

He’d done a lot of things over the years that he wasn't proud of, to help the Rebellion, to give the galaxy a better future. For the first time in a long while, he thought maybe a little bit of that future could be for him. He didn't deserve Bodhi, but Bodhi wanted him anyway. Maybe love wasn’t about what Cassian deserved or didn’t; maybe it was another way he could make the future better. This time, together.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been reading each chapter as they came out, we posted two today. Don't skip chapter 7, that's the payoff chapter ;)

Later, when they ran into Guardians in the line for dinner, Chirrut turned towards them, paused for a moment as if listening, then smiled.

“Oh, good,” he said. “I’m so glad you were able to talk some sense into him, Bodhi.”

Cassian flushed.

“I think that was you,” Bodhi smiled. “I didn’t do much talking.”

The heat in his face intensifying, Cassian suddenly found the far wall very interesting.

Baze nodded sagely. “Words are well and good,” he said, giving his husband a sidelong look, “but I prefer action myself.”

Cassian didn't need the Force to hear the innuendo behind that comment. Beside him, Bodhi turned a distracting shade of bright red. Chirrut's laugh rang out through the mess hall, drawing more than a few curious glances. “Yes, I'm sure the Captain is looking forward to some ‘hands on’ training as well.”

Cassian groaned. “You know, suddenly I'm not hungry anymore.” He took Bodhi's hand and started to walk away.

“See Baze, I told you that the Force would open doors,” Chirrut said.

Baze sighed heavily. “You were talking about the cell doors, you old fool.”

“The Force moves in mysterious ways.”

“I'll move _you_ in mysterious ways. You're holding up the food line.”

Bodhi turned his face into Cassian's shoulder, muffling his laughter, and Cassian let down his guard so the joy could flood through him. It meant he also caught the hum of hunger and impatience and dozens of other emotions from the varied occupants in the mess hall, but the warmth of Bodhi’s hands and heart more than made up for that.

The Force flowed through him, bright and sure in its purpose. He had a good feeling about this, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone that's followed this story. It was a labor of love; for Cassian's character, for what might have been for the crew of Rogue One. 
> 
> Extra special thanks from misskatieleigh to Bright_Elen, who continues to want to write things with me for some crazy reason. You are a bright spot in my life and a wonderful co-author. ♥


End file.
